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Write a story from the point of view of a witch, spirit, or corpse.

Posted in Short Story on Nov 1, 2024

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✍️ 129 stories

Just Another Dead Girl Underwater

Winner of Contest #275 🏆

Trigger Warning: implications of death, violence and sexual harassment By the time the fisherman finds me, I will have been dead for thirty-three hours, six minutes, and twenty-nine seconds. Eighteen hours since the police declared me missing. Fifteen hours since Zoe told my biology teacher that my tent was empty, that I hadn’t returned from the party we’d snuck out to the night before. Careful, quiet, every twig a possible snitch. It was exhilarating, our hearts pounding, the smell of pine and seaweed thick in the air, and the moon a perfec...

241 likes 123 comments 123
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Hecata’s Horoscope

Submitted to Contest #275

You know, it's not fun. Forget about finding peace and enjoying angels' company. The company I have now is mainly stupid insects, mice, and one grumpy mole.The weather here is shit. Mostly dump. Always cold. I'm chilled to the bone. Not that this is hard to achieve now, given that bones are basically all I have. Bones and a patch of skin here and there.  Frankly, I wouldn't mind some fire. Hellfire would do, but there's no more truth in the tales about hellfire than in the tales about angels.So, here I am, minding my own business, liste...

98 likes 96 comments 96
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Everyone Loves a Good Burning

Submitted to Contest #275

"Are you going to cook me?" I laughed, "Goodness, no." I grabbed a towel from the wash pot and wrung it. "Besides, I'm not a big meat eater." I cleaned the blood from his forehead. "You've flooded our village?" The lad hesitated, his eyes darting around in apprehension. After agonizing moments, he summoned his courage and added, "More than once!" The clumsy lad wasn't used to using his brain. To put it bluntly, he was thicker than a queen's mattress. "That's your ancestors' fault for building in a floodplain." "A floodplain? What's that?" "P...

81 likes 61 comments 61
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Bewitched

Submitted to Contest #275

Bewitched I'm bewitched. Well, that is, I'm becoming a witch. No, not the true, crone looking, broom flying, cauldron cooking kind of witch. But still a witch. A pretend witch, that is. And only for one evening. Not so bad. And I'm actually being encouraged to become a witch or something I'm usually not. Don't intend to cast any spells on unsuspecting souls, good or bad. But you never know. Could happen unintentionally, you understand. Since I'm only eight years old how bad could it be? I have never been schooled in becoming a witch. I'll ha...

45 likes 54 comments 54
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Insatiable

Submitted to Contest #275

Darkness.Not the kind that comes when you close your eyes. This is something else—heavy, dense, like the world’s been erased. It’s pressing down, sinking through me. I can’t breathe—can I? My chest should be moving, doing…something.I don’t know why I expect that.Then…something else. A noise. No, not a noise. A memory.“I love you, babe.” A woman’s voice—warm, laughing. I can almost feel her next to me, see her face, smell her perfume, something like freshly peeled oranges—Gone. Just like that.I try to hold onto it, but it slips away like smok...

45 likes 54 comments 54
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Dead Man Watching

Submitted to Contest #275

Dead Man Watching“I’m not afraid of death; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”-Woody AllenI’m dead now, and let me tell you it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be. No one is running around in a puffy burnt orange shirt that one of the Three Musketeers left behind, molding gooey pottery stuff to music with some hot chick, or dragging some psychotic kid who sees dead people all over town. No, it’s a pretty static, uneventful existence, and cold… and dark… all the time. And my wife got me a bargain basement casket. I think she got ...

39 likes 11 comments 11
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She is Mine

Submitted to Contest #275

I watched, and I waited. For years I haunted the halls, waiting for the right one. Sometimes, I would think I was close, but inevitable disappointment followed, each and every time. But nobody mourns for a ghost. People came, and people went, but something was always missing. Until I saw her.Oh, how she moved! Grace, elegance, poise. She didn’t know how beautiful she was. The first time she crossed my path, she was late. Rushing through these hallowed halls, books falling from her hands, dark hair tumbling around her shoulders...

37 likes 20 comments 20
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Rest in peace

Submitted to Contest #275

Rest in peace. Warning! Mention of child abuse, rape, miscarriage, and revenge. The fifth step from the top on the main stairs has chewing gum stuck in the left corner as you come down. In the south wing, in front of the second-floor girls’ room, a couple of the tiles are cracked. A section of baseboard, just outside the chem lab, has a mysterious stain with a lingering sulfur odor. Two of the ceiling tiles in the boy’s locker room are broken. A budding Peeping Tom fell through when trying to get to the girl’s showers, where in the last...

34 likes 23 comments 23
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The Black House

Submitted to Contest #275

Oh, how I love The Black House it captivates me, fun and debauchery abound, a den of indulgence and excitement. Every Friday I find myself drawn here, and my dastardly actions always go unheeded until I have had my fun and I’m well gone, then there is all hell to pay, I have left chaos in my wake. I am nestled as usual in a secluded corner, my little nook, where I secrete myself with a book until an interesting or exotic bird of the female persuasion catches my eye. I never actually read the book, but I find if you frequent any bar book in h...

33 likes 14 comments 14
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Observe the Dead

Submitted to Contest #275

I don’t see what the fuss is all about, to be perfectly frank with you. Never did I see this many people going out of their way to engage with me when I was alive. Now, I’m dead and laid up in my poor daughter’s kitchen and suddenly the whole neighborhood’s out in their Sunday best. Margaret Walsh showing up in the dress she wore to her own father’s funeral as though I was as close to her as he was. That woman hasn’t said two words to me since we got off the boat in America, because she tried cutting in front of me, and I told her that I’d h...

29 likes 15 comments 15
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Grave meditations

Shortlisted for Contest #275 ⭐️

Neither dark nor light, blissful nor scary, embracing nor aloof. Here it just is. Cold but not uncomfortable, I rest on the earth, not a cloud above. The smell is of soil, millions of years old. It’s easy to imagine my space shared by spiders, snakes and other things that slither in the dark, but I’m calm and don’t fear them. Inches above, a ceiling of old oak, itself serving an afterlife here. This capsule made by man is comforting, if claustrophobic. To consider spending an eternity here conjures a terror just beyond my consciousness; I ke...

29 likes 12 comments 12
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The Death Father

Submitted to Contest #275

It felt her shift on its shoulders. “What’s the matter, little one?” The girl’s small voice cut through the silence of the road. “Can you tell me a story?” “A story?” it repeated, its voice a dry rasp. A long, thoughtful pause hung in the air before it finally began, “Once upon a time…” “No, not like that!” she protested, scrunching her nose in dissatisfaction and leaning over its skull from atop its shoulders. “Your story.” “Ah… my story.” It shifted as it walked, as if turning the thoughts over in its mind. “I don’t remember most of it.” “...

27 likes 5 comments 5
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The Taste of Rot

Submitted to Contest #275

I took my last breath on the strike of noon. The sun was at its highest, the heat at its strongest, pouring through the window and across my body. Feels unnatural, doesn’t it? Death in broad daylight. Death is for the night. Something that catches you in the shadow, something that lurks in the depths. But crucially, something that can be evaded. With the strike of a match or the rotation of time. Something, other, something opposite. That thought is a comfort. It was something I considered, breathing into my freezing palms in the dead o...

25 likes 7 comments 7
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Witchy

Submitted to Contest #275

Witchy “Here they come…” To Freya, they were the proverbial mob carrying torches and pitchforks. Objectively, they were trick-or-treaters doing what little kids do on this iconic day. They toured the neighborhood in fanciful costumes toting pillowcases and plastic buckets laden with sweets. Not wanting to harsh their sugar buzz, a few vigilant parents followed at a distance.Freya hated that Samhain, her holiday, had become the cartoonish Hallmark holiday, Halloween. Samhain’s magic had gotten trampled by a vast commercial enterprise dedicat...

25 likes 11 comments 11
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Payback

Submitted to Contest #275

The rain tapped relentlessly against the funeral parlour's street facing frontage. Inside, in a tastefully decorated side room, with her favourite daffodils, looking out on the streetscape, lay Joan Kelly's mortal remains. To the unskilled casual observer Joan looked pretty much dead but the truth was that she was fully alive just not in the conventional sense of the word. Her family and friends visited the funeral parlour's warmly decorated side room. They came very sad that Joan had passed but happy that she had a long life and this though...

24 likes 9 comments 9
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